


To Meet On Safer Ground

by Topaz_Eyes



Series: X Company: One Safe Place [2]
Category: X Company
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 13:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: If Neil could make that leap, why couldn’t he?





	To Meet On Safer Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [One Safe Place](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902982). Concrit is always greatly appreciated!

All Tom can think of at first, after he follows Neil inside and pulls the bedroom door closed behind him with a soft click of the latch; as they stand opposite each other in the middle of the tiny room sizing each other up; is how Neil is shorter than he thought.

There’s about a three inch difference between them, he thinks. Huh. It’s funny how he’s never really considered Neil’s height before. Then again he’s never had a reason to –

Until now, when he thinks about how they’re going to fit together tonight.

Equal parts excitement and trepidation course through Tom, set him trembling; looking across he sees how Neil’s also struggling to control himself. They’ve made a deliberate choice to be here, to continue what they’d started this morning. It’s now early evening, despite the gloom in the hall. With at least another hour until sunset, there’s plenty of light shining through the window, filtered by the gauzy bedside curtain, for them to see what they’re about to do.

“Just so you know, I’m scheduled for watch at 2 AM,” Tom says, breaking the awkward silence.

Neil’s face tightens a bit at that, but then he shrugs. “Guess we should start the party now, then.”

“I guess so.” Tom sweeps his gaze slowly down Neil’s tensing body and up again. He pauses at the tent in his trousers; his own cock hardens at the sight. “You don’t waste any time, huh?” he says with a smirk.

Neil steps forward into Tom’s space until they’re just inches apart and he pulls Tom forward by the hips until their groins are flush. “No time to waste,” he replies, his voice rasping with need.

Tom can’t argue with that one. Neil rotates his pelvis, pressing his erection against Tom’s through their clothing. Tom inhales shakily, cups Neil’s jaw and tilts it upward.

Neil’s mouth opens the second Tom presses his lips to his, and Tom takes the invitation, slipping his tongue inside. He slides his hand around to the back of Neil’s head to deepen the contact, fingers threading through his curls at the nape. Neil cups Tom’s ass cheeks and they grind together, a slow dance without music, each thrust sparking through Tom’s core.

“Jesus, Neil,” Tom soon gasps against his lips, “keep this up and I’ll come in my pants.”

“Can’t have that yet,” Neil replies, his mouth curving in a grin. He changes to a lazy rocking motion which somehow almost seems worse with its teasing.

After a few more minutes of exchanging increasingly heated kisses, Tom decides they’re both wearing too many clothes. He ends their kiss to tug Neil’s suspenders off his shoulders. He untucks his shirt from his trousers and slides his hands under the cotton fabric up to Neil’s chest. He reaches his nipples, rolls them under his fingertips until they’re erect, relishing Neil’s hum of pleasure as he does. Neil lets go of his ass, pulls off Tom’s suspenders and rucks his pullover up in return, raking his nails over Tom’s sides. Tom hisses with the scrape on his skin.

They break apart long enough to kick off boots and socks, to shed shirt and pullover; they step out of trousers and underwear to face each other fully naked and aroused. The naked part isn’t new; neither of them were shy in the barracks or the men’s shower back at the Camp in Whitby. The fully aroused part very much still is. Tom admires how Neil’s cock arcs upwards from his thatch of pubic hair. And Neil clearly likes what he sees of Tom too, judging by how his eyes widen just a bit, how he nods approvingly.

(Neil’s already got a drop of pre-come beading at his slit. Tom finds himself focusing on it, ponders what would happen if he reached out and smeared it across the tip with his thumb, or if he dropped to his knees and licked it off, or – )

“Enough with the staring,” Neil says, invading his space again. He seizes Tom by his hair, pulls him down to his mouth to kiss Tom with dizzying force. He steers them backwards until Tom feels the edge of the bed behind his knees. Neil breaks the kiss, grasps his upper arms and sits him down on the mattress.

Tom spreads his legs to let Neil stand in between them and glances up: Neil appears ready to devour him alive. Tom leans forward to nuzzle his chest, captures a nipple in his mouth and flicks it playfully with his tongue. Neil’s breath catches, and he shivers; Tom drags his lips across to the other side and repeats, sucking gently for good measure. His fingertips skate over his pecs, along his sides, around his back, tracing the defined ridges of muscle.

“Christ,” Neil breathes, threading his fingers through Tom’s hair. Tom grins against Neil’s skin, continues laving attention until Neil starts to tense his grip. At that he draws back, looks up again. Neil stoops down and claims his lips in yet another hungry, searing kiss.

Their lips still pressed together, Tom scoots backward on the mattress to give Neil room to climb onto the bed. Once on, he lies back, pulling Neil down with him. It’s Neil’s turn, now, to break away from Tom’s lips, to slide along Tom’s jaw and ear, down his neck, leaving a warm, moist trail; to tongue his way across and down Tom’s chest, then back up to his mouth.

Tom’s content to keep doing this all night, to revel in the silken warmth of Neil’s mouth and lips and tongue on his body, the velvet rasp of his stubble on his cheek and chin. At the same time his blood pulses through his cock, reminding him of what else they could be doing in the moment.

“Anything you like in particular?” Tom murmurs when Neil draws back for air.

Neil had felt Tom’s surge too. He pauses, thinking a moment; then he climbs off and lies on his side. Tom turns to face him, shivering at the loss of Neil’s heat, then again at the raw, naked want on his face as he gazes at him. He watches, licking his lips in anticipation as Neil aligns their cocks and rubs along Tom’s shaft in one slow glide.

Tom inhales sharply and bucks at the exquisite friction of skin on skin. “Works for me,” he says. He spits on his hand and wraps it around both their cocks. They begin to rock against each other in tandem, sliding through his fist. Neil can’t hold back a low moan that rumbles through Tom’s body. Tom could do this all night too, frot and watch Neil slowly lose control under his touch. Beads of perspiration already dot his forehead; a red flush begins to creep down his neck and over his chest. God, but he’s gorgeous when he’s being debauched. His own cock throbs at the sight and he moves his hand faster, crowding out all other thought for the moment.

~~

Tom liked women, of course, and he also liked men.

He’d harboured a brief physical attraction to Neil when they first met at the Camp. Neil never showed any obvious reciprocal interest in Tom though, and his prickly nature thwarted Tom’s attempts to befriend him beyond their duties on the team. So Tom never pursued it and the attraction faded; he kept everything between them strictly on the surface, throughout their time in training and well into France.

Then, last evening on their supply run, he’d slipped on the muddy side of a flash creek in a torrential downpour, and tumbled in headfirst.

The water was maybe hip-deep at most, but he was no match for the force of the flow. He couldn’t find a footing in the channel, and the roaring current had submerged him more than once.

Worse, he’d begun to lose control of his limbs in the icy water within a minute of falling in.

Neil had extended a branch to him, twice, but it slipped through cold-numbed hands the first time, and he couldn’t even grab it the second. Tom had just about resigned himself to a watery grave when he’d felt a hand seize his jacket collar and yank him out of the torrent at the last minute.

He’d had only a vague recollection of Neil clutching a low tree branch over the fast-flowing stream; of the terrifying crack of the wood under their combined weight before Neil heaved him onto the soggy bank. He remembered the rest of the journey afterwards only in flashes of lightning, of ice-cold pellets of rain, of being dragged through mud and disjointed shouts to keep moving, until they stumbled into the dusty, dark hole of the shed where they’d spent the night.

Racked by uncontrollable shivering, Tom didn’t notice the sea change between them at first, not until long after Neil had climbed into the sleeping bag with him. Once the hypothermia released its hold, and he set aside Neil’s natural reticence and protests to the contrary, he was astonished to find that Neil was cradling him as if he couldn’t bear to lose him.

Granted, all it took was Tom almost drowning for Neil to admit to anything, but in the end it didn’t matter. Despite the rain, the near-miss in the stream, or the threat of the Boche hunting them down, Tom couldn’t recall the last time when he’d felt – safer. Tom clung to that feeling of safety like a lifeline, through the chills and the tremors and the fear of dying, until he warmed up and fell asleep.

Later, he wasn’t sure what had led Neil to kiss him rather than punch his lights out for rubbing against him in his sleep. (And yeah, it had been rather embarrassing.) To be honest, he wasn’t sure if Neil had known why. Either way, the touch of his lips had been enough of an invitation for Tom to kiss back. Everything else had spiralled from there.

And – holy hell, but Neil gave as good as he got. (If Tom had known that beforehand, he might’ve worked that much harder to grab Neil’s attention. Without the almost-dying part, of course.)

Except Tom hadn’t been prepared for the sheer depth of emotion behind their final kiss that morning before they had to leave the security of the shed. He’d always played his cards close, never invested himself deeply with anyone; he dealt in short-lived flings only, nothing steady or lasting or that might compromise his heart.

So he hadn’t really understood, until the moment when Neil kissed him, that there was no such thing as “no strings attached.”

There were always, _always_ strings.

The thought had terrified him. In truth it still does.

He’d done the only thing he could think of at the time to protect himself: he’d shut Neil out. (Ironically just as Neil was letting himself open up. Tom’s still amazed Neil hasn’t punched him for that yet.) And Tom kept him out, all the way back from the shed and for the rest of the day, unwilling to extend himself any further.

Earlier that evening, Aurora stopped him in the upstairs hallway of the safe house to read him the riot act. When she’d finished, she’d looked at him sympathetically. “He might surprise you, Tom,” she’d said, squeezing his hand, and she’d disappeared back downstairs before he could point out that he already had.

The biggest surprise, however, had arrived in the hallway, when Neil grabbed his hand and asked him to stay.

It wasn’t even the question that had floored him. It was that Neil had asked, _knowing_ the most likely outcome. Neil had every reason not to put himself on the line like that.

He did it anyway.

Every instinct in Tom screamed _no_. They’d become too attached to each other, and then something would happen. It always did, in his experience. Being left behind – it hurt too much to contemplate.

But after last night, if Neil could make that leap, why couldn’t he?

~~

Just minutes later, Neil leans his forehead against Tom’s shoulder, his breath coming in jagged puffs. His thrusts grow sharp and erratic. He’s very close; Tom knows he can finish him off just like this. He knows Neil will return the favour and bring him off too, just like this, and it’ll be perfectly enjoyable.

To his utter shock, Tom realizes he wants – no, he craves – something more than a glorified hand job tonight.

“Fuck me, Neil,” he says.

Tom hardly ever allows it when he sleeps with other men. He’s never wanted to be breached before like this, to be fucked until he’s utterly senseless. But holy _God_ , the urge to give himself over entirely to it is overwhelming.

“What?” Neil doesn’t seem to register Tom’s words at first; he continues to arch desperately into Tom’s fist, seeking relief. So Tom stops stroking, tilts his head up to catch his attention.

“I want you to fuck me,” Tom repeats, low and urgent.

Neil stills his rocking at that and stares at him, stunned by the request – but not because he’s put off by it. “You sure about that?” he murmurs, searching Tom’s face for any sign of doubt.

Tom can’t explain why he wants it so badly, not even to himself. But he understands Neil’s hesitation, at least. He holds his gaze, swallows hard, and nods. “Yeah.”

Neil blinks, his eyes impossibly dark, as it dawns on him just what Tom is asking. He reaches up to caress Tom’s cheek, then presses his lips to Tom’s with a tenderness that makes Tom’s heart ache. By his count, they’re at the third of what will probably become an infinite number of strings attached between them, after the kiss this morning and choosing to be here tonight. Tom decides those strings are worth it to have this moment, alive and together like this.

He returns Neil’s kiss in kind until the desire to be fucked to oblivion becomes too staggering to ignore. “No time to waste,” Tom reminds him in a throaty whisper.

“Right.” Neil raises himself up, shifts into position between Tom’s legs. Tom rolls on his back, raises his legs and buttocks, reaching down to prepare himself. But Neil is already there, spreading Tom’s ass cheeks to reveal his hole, his thumbs brushing against the delicate skin on either side.

“Wait, do you have –?” Tom asks, realizing he’d brought nothing with him.

Neil rolls his eyes, but reaches over him to open the drawer of the nightstand beside the bed. He withdraws a small tube and a paper packet, and waves them at Tom. “Did you think I was born last night?”

Neil squeezes out a generous dollop from the tube onto his fingers. He inserts one slippery finger through Tom’s sphincter, probing carefully; he follows with a second, and begins to loosen him up. Tom moans in unrestrained pleasure, lies back to relax and enjoy the gentle onslaught. He’s impressed that Neil knows enough to do this. He’s surprisingly good at it, too.

“Wouldn’t have guessed you were into back-door sex,” Tom muses.

“Best kind, sometimes,” Neil says quietly, all his attention otherwise focused on working Tom open. Tom raises a curious eyebrow, but Neil doesn’t elaborate.

“Didn’t think you were into men,” Neil adds.

“I’ve been with a few,” Tom admits. “Does it bother you?”

“Wouldn’t be here if it did. Besides, there’s always a first time, yeah?”

“Really?” Tom peers at him; Neil glances up at him, then away, appearing somewhat abashed. “I’m honoured,” he continues sincerely, “but you’re not exactly the easiest man to get to know.” They both huff at that.

When a third finger joins in, Tom’s desire spikes and he can’t help but squirm in desperation. “God, Neil, hurry _up_ ,” he begs, unable to wait any longer.

Neil smirks at that. “That’s what I like to hear,” he says in a low rumble.

“Yeah, you would, too,” Tom retorts, “you prick.”

Neil laughs outright and removes his fingers. Tom hisses at the loss of contact, at the cool air playing on moist, sensitive skin. He watches, trying not to tremble with anticipation as Neil rolls on the condom and slicks up his cock. Neil almost immediately presses the head of his cock against Tom’s opening, but then he pauses, catching Tom’s eye with a wicked glint.

“Any time now, Mackay,” Tom snaps –

They both gasp at the first push inside.

Neil enters Tom inch by inch, waiting to let Tom relax and stretch and adjust to his cock at each step, until he’s buried balls-deep. God but it’s hot and tight and _perfect_. Tom angles against him, hooking his legs around Neil’s hips; Neil pulls back a bit and thrusts forward, and Tom gasps again with the moving fullness.

“Like that, do you?” Neil asks.

“What do you think?” Tom replies, a little peevish; Neil tilts his hips and Tom immediately belies his annoyance with an involuntary groan of pleasure.

At the beginning, Neil moves far too slowly for Tom’s taste. It’s clear Neil doesn’t want to hurt him, and Tom does appreciate the care, but he keeps urging him faster and faster until Neil’s finally pumping into him with long, firm strokes. Yes, just like this, Tom thinks in a haze. He reaches out blindly, finds Neil’s hand bracing himself on the mattress, and holds it tight.

Neil stretches down to claim a ravening kiss and picks up the pace; Tom matches him thrust for thrust. The light in the window starts to dim and redden as the sun drops towards the horizon. Soon they’re both bathed in a sheen of exertion; Tom smells the musk emanating from them both, their mingled, earthen scents homing in straight to his animal brain to ratchet up the need. His cock throbs in response; he worms his free hand in between them to stroke himself as Neil continues to ream him thoroughly.

It’s going to hurt to sit tomorrow, but tonight the pressure is exactly what he wants. He latches onto the skin just above Neil’s collarbone, bites gently, relishes Neil’s formless cursing and the taste of his salt. He laves the sting away and mouths him again to leave a trail of marks across his skin. And Tom can’t get enough of Neil inside him and all around him, can’t get enough of the slap of his thighs against his ass with each plunge forward. Soon all that matters in the race to the edge is the thickness of Neil’s cock driving into him and the unquenchable heat between his own legs –

Then Neil finds just that point deep within. Tom keens into Neil’s shoulder with the sudden shock that floods his entire body with electric bliss. Neil hits the sweet spot over and over, his breath panting in Tom’s ear and his eyes squeezed tightly closed, until each jolt grows too much for either of them to bear. Tom shudders first, his balls draw up, and he flies apart, clenching rhythmically with each jet of release onto his belly. Tom’s climax barely starts to recede when Neil stills a split-second, teetering on the brink of his own. Then he surges forward, again and again with a drawn-out groan low in his throat until he’s spent too.

Still inside him, Neil sinks down to rest on top of Tom while the aftershocks fade. Tom would always pull out of his lovers at this point, unnerved by this kind of post-orgasm intimacy. Tonight he forcibly squashes down his fear, brings his arms up to hold Neil close; focusing only on the sensation of Neil’s weight pressing him into the mattress.

“Fucking hell,” Neil says at length, after his heartbeat has slowed and he’s breathing regularly again, “I can’t believe we just did that.” He sounds completely and utterly sated.

“Yeah, we did,” Tom says, smoothing his palms up and down from Neil’s shoulders to the small of his back. He’s not sure how many strings this makes now, but he decides he no longer cares.

Another minute or so passes, and Neil carefully begins to withdraw. Tom steels himself, but he still winces when the head of Neil’s cock slides out. Tom expects to be sore after that pounding, but the resulting emptiness aches in a different way, more so when Neil lifts himself off and gets out of bed. Tom covers his eyes with his arm, tells himself that he’s shivering only because the air is cold, and hopes Neil won’t notice.

Shortly he feels a damp washcloth being pressed into his hand. “Thanks,” he says, and cleans himself up. When he’s done he holds it out; Neil takes it and puts it somewhere, then climbs back into bed. He pulls up the covers and they lie side-by-side in the lengthening shadows of sunset.

“So what now?” Neil asks.

Tom rolls onto his side to face him. “I don’t know. We – muddle through, I guess? Hope we survive?”

Neil looks up and gives him a small, wry half-smile. “I was thinking more like sleeping ‘til you go on watch, or –”

“Ah, right.” Tom mulls over the possibilities, and after a moment says thoughtfully, “Well, I like to cuddle.” He tries and fails to suppress a teasing grin.

Neil glances at him sideways, then shakes his head. “Yeah, don’t I know that.” Still, he stretches his arm out in a clear invitation. “Come here, you bastard.”

With a chuckle, Tom scoots over and settles in until they’re wrapped around each other, his head nestled in the crook of Neil’s shoulder. After this morning, he honestly had never expected to be in Neil’s arms again like this. From the way Neil holds him, the way he brushes his lips across his forehead, he’d never expected it either.

Tomorrow they’ll be fighting for their lives again, but tonight, for now, they’re safe. And maybe that’s the point, Tom thinks. He closes his eyes, and simply immerses himself in the moment.

Some time later, a soft rap on the bedroom door startles them awake.

“Shit,” Neil whispers. They bolt upright, Neil switches on the bedside lamp; Tom looks around for a quick hiding place. There isn’t one, except under the bed, but the space looks far too small for him to fit underneath. He contemplates diving under the covers.

The door thankfully doesn’t open. “Neil?” Aurora calls out instead from the hall. “Are you there?”

Neil and Tom exchange wary glances. “Yeah, Aurora?” he replies carefully.

There’s a brief silence, then, “Sorry to bother you, but – if you see Tom tonight, can you let him know that Alfred will take over his two AM watch?”

Tom raises an eyebrow at Neil. “Yeah, sure. I can do that. Cheers,” Neil says.

On the other side of the door, Aurora smiles and shakes her head. “Thank you, Neil. Good night. Sleep well.”

“G’night.”

In the hallway, Aurora covers her mouth to stifle a knowing sigh. From the sound of things, they’d obviously worked out something between them. She’s in no position to judge the wisdom of their choice; she will simply respect it and trust their judgement. She turns and heads back down the hall towards the stairs.

Once her footsteps have fully receded, Neil grins and winks at Tom. “Alfred’s taking over your two AM watch.”

“Why, thank you for telling me, Neil,” Tom says dryly, “I never would have known otherwise.”

“Dick.”

Tom rolls his eyes, then points back and forth between them. “Do you think Aurora knows…?”

Neil peers at him in disbelief. “Not a doubt, mate.”

Tom sighs and sinks back down against the pillow. “Yeah, of course she knows.” Aurora won’t confront them on it, though. She won’t betray them, either.

Neil lies down too, props himself on his elbow, and traces a finger along Tom’s cheekbone, the expression on his face softer than Tom has ever seen. “On the bright side, you don’t have to leave early now.”

Tom closes his eyes, revelling in the sheer sweetness of the caress. “Nope.” He turns and kisses Neil’s finger. “Looks like we’ve got all night.”

“Then let’s not be wasting it,” Neil says, and pulls him in.


End file.
